


Chekov/Sulu Ficlet Roundup

by fairhearing



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Character Death, Chess, Christmas, Crush, Cute, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Ficlet, Fingerfucking, Gen, Hair, Humor, Kid Fic, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Math Kink, Riding, Sexual Fantasy, Smutlet, Texting, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairhearing/pseuds/fairhearing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the ones that are too short for (even shameless me) to post separately.  All genres and ratings.  Includes:</p><p>1. <i>Wager</i> (PG). "SULU AND CHEKOV DECIDE TO GROW THEIR HAIR OUT AND SEE WHO IS MORE ADORABLE."<br/>2. <i>Untitled</i> (PG, character death). "Sulu trying to make sense of a death that served no purpose and just happened."<br/>3. <i>Formal Logic</i> (NC-17). "N-dimensional math (or, any headhurty-complicated math, really) as pillow talk."<br/>4. <i>That's Me in the Corner</i> (PG-13, with Sulu/Everyone?). "I want people of the Enterprise all going to Sulu to lose their virginity."<br/>5. <i>Chess</i> (gen, G). "A fic in which Chekov and Pike play chess."<br/>6. <i>Communication</i> (incomplete, PG-13). "Chekov/Sulu, high school AU. Sexting... and then they actually ~do it~."<br/>7. <i>Long Story Short</i> (PG). For <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJr2evLANsE">this video prompt</a>.<br/>8. <i>Twelve Lords A-Leaping</i> (R). Twelve months of two boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wager (PG)

__

_"SULU AND CHEKOV DECIDE TO GROW THEIR HAIR OUT AND SEE WHO IS MORE ADORABLE. "_

 _  
_

* * *

  


"Deal?" said Chekov with a mischievous grin.

"Deal," Sulu told him, and they shook on it.

For the first couple of weeks after the bet, of course, it was easy. Sulu enjoyed not having to check how close his hair was getting to his collar every few days, and Chekov looked pretty much the same.

Then they hit the one-month mark.

"Lieutenant," Chekov said one day, nodding to him in the corridor, and the tiny bounce of his curls against his forehead actually made Sulu stop in his tracks. Chekov grinned as he kept walking.

A few days later, Chekov showed up at Sulu's quarters to borrow his gamelink controller again, right when Sulu was waking up from a nap.

"What? Oh, sure," he said to Chekov, brushing his bangs out of his face as he fumbled around in a drawer. "Here you go."

"Um... Pavel?" he said, after Chekov had stared for a minute.

After that, it all all-out war.

"Such a difficult equation," Chekov sighed at his console, pulling at a curl and letting it spring back.

"Understood, Ensign?" Sulu said during an away mission, tilting just a little so the wind blew through his hair perfectly.

Chekov grinned at Sulu across the cafeteria and pretended to protest as all the women at his table took turns cooing and giving him noogies.

"Hah, thanks, I actually keep meaning to get it cut," said Sulu to Riley on the other side of the bridge.

"Wery, wery smart of you, Captain," Chekov said during a conference, tapping his head with one finger and smiling so his dimples showed.

Sulu started to lean forward a lot.

Chekov would nod only with great vigor.

The bridge crew started acting a little distracted.

One day, after almost two months, Sulu and Chekov collided with each other in the hall.

"Oof," said Sulu.

"Ow," said Chekov.

"I, uh... was actually on my way to see you," said Sulu.

"Ah... so was I."

Sulu held up a three-hundred-credit notice in defeat.

Slowly, Chekov held up one too.

"It's a draw," said Sulu, burying his hands in Chekov's hair and stumbling with him into the turbolift.

"Da," whispered Chekov into his neck as the doors closed.


	2. Untitled (PG, character death)

_"Sulu trying to make sense of a death that served no purpose and just happened."_

 

* * *

 

He's always viewed his life as a story, ever since he knew what a story was. It has been a surprisingly good modus operandi for him over the years, this constant reading of his life. Is the plot moving along smoothly? Is there an underlying message? Is the main character good, someone you'd like to be?

And of course the love story.

That's what McCoy and Kirk and the others can't seem to understand. They keep telling him that he's in shock, that it's okay, that he has to let himself feel it, and Sulu feels a little bad for them. But he'll be patient with them, he'll nod and let them fret over him, because that's what they seem to need.

Sulu himself is unconcerned. Quite simply, it did not happen. Every line and every letter, every chapter that makes up who he is, has built up and stretched and grown to culminate at the person he's chosen to share his life with. It's the two of them now, no way to go back, because that would be preposterous, completely nonsensical. If it actually happened it would make the story abrupt and absurd. Meaningless. What would be the point?

The idea makes him laugh.

It's not that he hasn't accepted it. He just knows he doesn't have to. So he will be patient, waiting here in sickbay, the days since he's spoken collecting in a higher and higher pile. If this was a book he happened to pick up, he might be troubled -- these signs, these signs -- but it's not. This is his blood and his breath, and he knows it by heart, the way this will go: mistakes discovered, miracles and relief, something conquering all. He knows it as easily as he knows he's alive at all, so he'll sit here and wait, for as long as he has to, for as long as it takes for the page to turn.


	3. Formal Logic (NC-17)

_"N-dimensional math (or, any headhurty-complicated math, really) as pillowtalk."_

 

* * *

 

The completed theorem is still open on Pavel's computer screen, but while the two of them _are_ still in the desk chair, they stopped studying the notes a while ago.  
  
"So you must have had to switch to differential equations," Hikaru manages to say, once he's buried fully inside Pavel.  
  
"Mm, so I thought, but there was no evidence of... ah, of time dilation," says Pavel breathily, leaning back against Hikaru's chest and tipping his head up to see him. "So I could just, mmm, yes, deny the consequent, with --"  
  
"Modus tollens?" whispers Hikaru, kissing him, still rocking his hips steadily.  
  
"God, yes," Pavel moans.  
  
"So you got it down to -- nngh, _yeah_ , you got it down to a conjunctive syllogism."  
  
"Yes, Hikaru, yes -- and the proof was all mapped -- so I formulated a table and, ah, oh, God --"  
  
"Tell me," says Hikaru, holding Pavel tight against him and panting with a matching rhythm. "You used de Morgan's, didn't you."  
  
"Unngh, yeah, please --"  
  
"And what did you get?"  
  
"I got," cries Pavel, arching, fisting his own cock desperately, "I g-got..."  
  
"Tell me, baby," says Hikaru breathlessly, rubbing his fingers hard over Pavel's left nipple.  
  
"Ahn, yes, da, lapochka, I got, I got, a _tautology_ " -- and then Pavel throws his head back on Hikaru's shoulder, crying out and bucking hard, coming everywhere.  
  
"Fuck," growls Hikaru. He lowers his mouth onto Pavel's, thrusting up into him faster and faster until he comes, groaning, with Pavel holding his cheeks gently, watching him.  
  
They're still for a while. Then they kiss, wordlessly, until Hikaru tips his head back and opens his eyes.  
  
"Listen," he says, still panting. "Did you hear that?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I think we gave Spock a hard-on from across the ship."


	4. That's Me in the Corner (PG-13, with Sulu/Everyone?)

_"I want people of the Enterprise all going to Sulu to lose their virginity. Chekov, Spock, Uhura, even Kirk if you can manage it. All getting their cherries popped by Sulu. There is not enough Sulu."_

 

* * *

  
6\. Scotty  
  
"My bonny lass has told me how you handle _her_ flight stick, and, well..."  
  
5\. McCoy  
  
"Yeah, I had a headache every night when I was married, if you know what I mean. Huh? Joanna? Well, that's kind of, uh... complicated... listen, would you just get over here? I'm a doctor, not some kind of freak who can manage to resist your sinfully delicious charms."  
  
4\. Uhura  
  
"Fuck me."  
  
3\. Spock  
  
"And me as well."  
  
2\. Kirk  
  
"BEAM US UP! ENTERPRISE, WHERE ARE YOU? Fuck I can't believe this, I pulled off the player thing too well and now I'm gonna die a VIRGIN, fuck irony, fuck it... uh. Sulu? Could you do me a huge favor?"  
  
1\. Chekov  
  
"Da, give it to me, please. No, doesn't hurt, please just more -- I need more of you. Please, there is not enough of you, never enough Sulu."  
  
0  
  
"And that's how it would go," Sulu concluded, crossing his arms behind his head with a satisfied look.  
  
Chekov propped an arm on Sulu's bare chest to glare at him in disgust.  
  
"What? It could happen! Maybe."  
  
"'Never enough Sulu'? Really, Hikaru?"  
  
"Hey! Whose fantasy is this, huh?"  



	5. Chess (gen, G)

_"A fic in which Pike and Chekov play chess."_

 

* * *

 

It's one of the perks of executive privilege, Pike tells him. You can make the ensigns to do the dirty work.  
  
A chess game is dirty work?  
  
The ensign hasn't seen anything yet. Just wait till after they move their queens out: Pike can get downright nasty.  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
So. Pike eases a bishop down the board. The _Enterprise_. Ensign Chekov is staying on?  
  
If he can, sir, yes.  
  
Dream ship, and all that?  
  
Dream? Ah, like, dream for the life, a goal?  
  
Like that, yes.  
  
Chekov scrunches up his face, scratches his cheek absently with the top of his rook before he castles. He doesn't think so, actually. That is, the _Enterprise_ was not his dream ship beforehand. Before he served on her, that is.  
  
And now?  
  
Chekov grins. Oh, yes.  
  
And why's that? Certainly not her new captain?  
  
Oh no, no, no sir! Not at all! Captain Kirk is very good but Captain Pike -- the Admiral! -- was, is, also quite good, very good indeed, and --  
  
Chekov doesn't have to bust a ringlet; Pike was just kidding.  
  
Yes, sir. But, it is because. Chekov is sorry for his poor Standard, his words are a mess, he knows -- but he really wants the Admiral to know how grateful he is for giving him the opportunity to serve on the _Enterprise_ in the first place. It is sometimes hard for Chekov, his age, being in a different place; he loves Starfleet and loves new things but it has been a very long time since he felt, so fast, right away really, that someplace was his house -- his home, that is, and... that is to say... he is rambling.  
  
Pike's mouth quirks as he studies the chessboard.  
  
Chekov just wishes to give his thanks. Is all. Sir.  
  
Pike sits back a little, folding his hands over his lap.  
  
Nothing would please him more than to graciously accept undeserved accolades. But truth be told, he's been thinking it over, and he thinks the one responsible for that crew and that mission might be the _Enterprise_ herself.  
  
Sir?  
  
Pike glances at him; shrugs. Stranger things have happened. Of all the culminations taking place that day, all the galaxy-shattering change, in a way the _Enterprise_ crew coming together like they did seemed to be the focal point, the center of it all. Something that was meant to be.  
  
But the Admiral was the one who led all of them there, sir.  
  
Perhaps. And that in itself will be his own selfish pride, probably, for the rest of his life. Even if he's not meant to lead them, he'll always be the one who sent them on their way.  
  
He looks up and smiles: so does Chekov. He takes Chekov's pawn, and Chekov takes his.


	6. Communication (PG-13, incomplete ;_;)

_"Chekov/Sulu, high school AU. Sexting... and then they actually ~do it~."_

 

* * *

 

Pavel still refers to Hikaru as his "brother's friend," even though Nikolai and Hikaru barely even talk in the off-season, and Pavel himself really got to know Hikaru through the physics department -- Hikaru was assigned to be Pavel's "student mentor" when the administration got a hold of his aptitude charts. It sounds a lot fancier than it is -- mostly Hikaru keeps Pavel up-to-date on what his prospective colleges are hoping to see from him in terms of courseload -- but Pavel doesn't care, because it led to him and Hikaru exchanging their first text messages, and Pavel wouldn't give up what's evolved since then for anything in the world.

***

At first, when Hikaru gave Pavel his phone number and told him he could drop him a text message "any time," with that smile of his, Pavel was just worried. He already couldn't understand why good-looking and popular senior Hikaru Sulu, the school's best third-baseman, adored by teachers and parents and half the student body, hadn't defaulted to sniffing and rolling his eyes at the ignoble fate of having to associate with a lowly sophomore, especially one as hopelessly nervous as Pavel.  
  
Pavel's first reaction himself, in fact, was to sniff -- to tell himself he didn't need help from some Ivy-obsessed fake who was just trying to fatten up the "student leadership" section of his college applications. This, he knows now, was because it was clear that Hikaru had all the luxuries necessary to be cruel without consequence, and Pavel already liked him so much, had liked him ever since he was a kid going to his brother's little league games, grasping tight to the fence and watching Hikaru and Niko execute breathless double-plays. He didn't think he could handle it if Hikaru turned out to be just another smirking jock who acted like he was doing Pavel a favor by ignoring him, like so many of his brother's friends did once they were under the school's fluorescent lights. Like Nikolai himself.  
  
But it was nothing like Pavel expected. Hikaru shook his hand in the guidance office with an expression that seemed almost bashful, laughing and telling the guidance counselor that he and Pavel already knew each other. Pavel already knew he was in trouble when his heart soared at those words.  
  
Hikaru walked him back to his locker and asked how sophomore year was going so far, what colleges Pavel was thinking of, whether he had kept up with the violin lessons he'd been taking as a kid. Pavel answered as best he could, mostly flustered and glancing around to see if anyone was watching, because this obviously went against all kinds of unspoken rules, didn't it?  
  
It was thrilling, but also made Pavel feel kind of queasy -- which was a pretty good summation of talking to Hikaru in general, he quickly figured out. Especially when Hikaru stayed to give him his phone number, laughing when Pavel pushed up his sleeve to write it on his forearm alongside the day's homework assignments.  
  
"Sorry," Pavel said, feeling his face go hot. "I forget things otherwise."  
  
"Don't be sorry, that's the best thing I've ever seen," Hikaru said, grinning, and Pavel felt his stomach swoop.  
  
Hikaru was actually the first one to send a text, later that night ("hey kid, i forgot to give you that list of electives"), which was equal parts thrill and relief, because Pavel was never going to work up the nerve to make first contact.  
  
Since the beginning he's followed complicated rules about texting Hikaru: never send two messages in a row, wait at least two minutes between replies, try not to be the first to text, always be the last to reply. He never expected Hikaru to seem to enjoy talking to him, though. In fact, he still can't figure out how this happened, how he and Hikaru went from a few messages before and after guidance sessions to texting for an hour every night, Pavel sitting crosslegged on his bed, the overhead lights off and the door locked, his heart pounding as he waits for the little _beep_ of Hikaru's reply.  
  
At first he was desperate to keep Hikaru talking and asked him every question about the physics program he could think of, terrified of the day the subject would be exhausted completely. But now they talk about everything. They talk about school and teachers and how they feel like cattle sometimes when colleges size them up. They talk about the news, and about physics, which Hikaru loves but doesn't talk to his friends about ("i try to avoid seeming excessively asian" he once joked, in a way that made Pavel wonder if high school was hard for Hikaru, too). They talk about their families, and sometimes they just talk about ideas and life and the future, and those are the times Pavel loves most of all, when his fingers tremble on the buttons of his phone and his chest aches with everything he wants from Hikaru.  
  
He spends his days in constant disbelief at his own luck, breathless at the chance of seeing Hikaru in the hallway between classes or when he's about to leave for his AP courses at the local college, dreading the day Hikaru regains his senses. He spends his nights curled up around his phone, grinning down at the screen. When he touches himself, Hikaru's words are running through his head -- "god have mercy you're smart" and "nothing, you're just adorable" and " i love talking to you about this stuff." When he comes, he whimpers Hikaru's name.  
  


 

 

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _... THEN THEY HAD SEX, THE END_
> 
> _This was supposed to be the fill that popped my Sulu/Chekov AU cherry, if you'll pardon the extremely classy metaphor, but I was completely unable to progress to the serious angst -- > actual sexting --> sneaking out the night before graduation --> non-penetrative sex in Sulu's car. Thankfully, God sent [paytofay](http://paytofay.livejournal.com) to us and she filled it properly in her nummy [Text Me](http://paytofay.livejournal.com/3835.html#cutid1) (NC-17)._


	7. Long Story Short (PG)

_For[this video prompt](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJr2evLANsE)._

 

* * *

 

One of the best things about Sulu was how excited he got over little things. The problem with Sulu, though, was how excited he got over little things.  
  
Chekov usually managed to coax himself into being interested, and even when he couldn't he always tried to be patient, to smile and nod and ask questions at all the right intervals, but this particular instance it was one of their rare days off and Chekov had been right in the middle of rewiring his tricorder to detect ionic interference off-ship when Sulu got back from lunch, looking exhilarated and launching into an immediate, epic monologue about the new dish he'd tried at Uhura's suggestion, the unexpected spiciness thereof, how he'd tried water and that had made made things worse, how the two of them had scrambled to get the synthesizers to produce a reasonable facsimile of goat's milk, etc etc etc.  
  
Chekov gave Sulu a tight smile at every dramatic revelation ("so of course it ends up giving us... STOAT'S milk!"), keeping one eye on the nanochip cluster he was painstakingly transferring into a new nodule via magnetic tweezers, almost all the way finished at this point -- but as usual, Sulu didn't seem to notice.  
  
"... so of course Dr. McCoy has an instant tongue-resetter hypospray thing, like right on hand."  
  
"Mmm."  
  
"And he smacks it into my neck like he's mad, which I guess I wouldn't blame him for because Uhura's like crying with laughter at this point, she can't even speak."  
  
"Ha."  
  
"So I'm about to go back and order like, baked potatoes and never try any kind of cuisine that requires non-cow-milk ever again when the doctor's like, 'if you're done ranting, the captain wanted me to know you got a level-1 transmission from the _Stanton_ ,' and I'm like 'what' but then I remembered I was waiting to hear from --"  
  
"Hikaru!" said Chekov with a huff, barely stopping himself from slamming his tricorder down on the table. "Please!"  
  
Sulu froze mid-sentence, mouth open.  
  
"Oh. You're... doing the thing?" he said after a second.  
  
"Yes, and if you wouldn't mind, I really need to concentrate, so please."  
  
"Oh," said Sulu. "Sorry."  
  
Chekov shook his head, muttered "it's okay" without much sincerity and went back to his work, forcing himself not to look at Sulu again, whose undoubted expression of sheepish apology would make Chekov want to kiss him and he would just have to give up any hope of finishing this before dinner.  
  
After a second, though, Chekov felt a tiny, hesitant tap on his shoulder, and he let out an impatient breath.  
  
"Yes?" he said through gritted teeth as he turned around.  
  
Sulu was holding up his PADD. It was open to a picture of a laughing toddler, her black hair in crooked pigtails.  
  
"I got custody," said Sulu softly, a grin growing on his face.  
  
Chekov let out a little noise, and when he jumped to throw his arms around Sulu's neck, he didn't even hear his tricorder crash to the floor.


	8. Twelve Lords A-Leaping (R)

_Twelve months of two boys. (Originally written for a Twelve-Days-of-Christmas-themed advent calendar.)_

 

* * *

 

 _ **January 14, 2258.**_  
  
"Hikaru Sulu," said the helmsman with a smile.  
  
"Pavel Chekov," said the navigator brightly as he shook his hand.  
  
 _ **February 14, 2258.**_  
  
"Well, Chekov," said Sulu, pressing the turbolift button with a heavy and long-suffering sigh, "it's Valentine's day and we're both alone.  I think it's time to get good and drunk, don't you?"  
  
" _Yes_ ," said Chekov, pumping his fist.  
  
 _ **March 14, 2258.**_  
  
He's my best friend, thought Chekov, his cheeks hurting from smiling as he watched Sulu crack up across the bed.  He's my best friend, my best in my life.  
  
 _ **April 14, 2258.**_  
  
Sulu doesn't remember much of the rest of the mission beyond the blinding flash of the disruptor blast; but even before anyone told him the story of what happened in sickbay afterward, he thought he could hear Pavel's voice coming from far away, pleading with him somehow, bringing him back from someplace black over and over again.  
  
 ** _May 14, 2258._**  
  
Chekov knows this can't continue, that soon it's going to reach a point he won't be able to laugh away as a casual touch or a friendly concern, as a cultural need to be close.  But he's been willing to play a fool for many, many things in his life.  None of them, none, have been Hikaru.  
  
 ** _June 14, 2258._**  
  
Chekov didn't say a single word before he zipped himself into Sulu's sleeping bag, but he did say something afterward, before Sulu could.  
  
"Please," was all he said, a whisper over the alien hum of alien insects, which was all they could hear on this planet, in the forest, in the night.  "Please, God, I can't anymore" -- and then he was whispering it over Sulu's lips.  
  
 _ **July 14, 2258.**_  
  
Sulu seems to think he can't broach the subject directly, can't explain why he's really coming by, but his excuses are getting flimsier.  "You left this in the mess, Pavel" -- "I wanted to ask if you knew more about the Heisenberg Principle, Pavel" -- "I just wanted to see how you were doing, Pavel."  
  
 ** _August 14, 2258._**  
  
"Yes, I am saying I want to be your boyfriend," said Chekov with a grin, still panting, and his laugh fills the empty rec room.  
  
 _ **September 14, 2258.**_  
  
This time, it was as slow as slow could be -- Sulu's fingers buried deep inside Chekov, the soft backs of Chekov's thighs flexing in a slow quiver each time Sulu sank them in as deep as he could, and Chekov whimpering each time at the feeling into his mouth, against his tongue -- and Sulu leaning back with every other breath to watch him.  
  
 ** _October 14, 2258._**  
  
"I got us a plant," said Chekov when Sulu had opened the door, and something -- the look on his face of abject terror at what this meant, and at Sulu's possible reaction; his overly-careful clutching the pot that held the tiny ivy with both hands -- had Sulu biting his lips for a full thirty seconds before he pulled Chekov inside.  
  
 ** _November 14, 2258._**  
  
"I would like for you to come home with me, to Russia, for the week of the New Year," Chekov managed to say that night at last, in the dark.  
  
"You..." He could feel Sulu shifting over to try look at him, his thumb gone still from its soft stroking against Chekov's hipbone.  "I thought you hated going back there?  Ever since your dad got married again.  I thought... didn't you say... you never wanted to go back again?"  
  
"I never did," said Chekov softly.  He reached up to hold Sulu's hand against his heart, as if he could say everything he needed with its rhythm against Sulu's palm.  It seemed like maybe he could, because Sulu just exhaled and pulled him closer.  
  
 ** _December 14, 2258._**  
  
"Hikaru, I'm tired, shore leave is for rest," Chekov whined, but allowed himself to be pulled off the futon and walked to the living room -- or "living room area," as it was technically classified in the context of Sulu's tiny studio apartment in San Francisco.  
  
"It's got no decorations," he said in confusion, upon seeing the Christmas tree that took up a good three-fourths of the available floor space.    
  
Sulu laughed.  
  
"Yeah, because _we_ are gonna decorate it."  He handed Chekov a glass of eggnog and a handful of luminescent self-adhering colored bulbs.  Then he stepped back to study Chekov for a moment.  (He had already had several glasses of eggnog.)  
  
"What?" said Chekov.  
  
"Nothing.  Just."  Sulu stepped closer to play with the hem of Chekov's sweater.  A dopey grin was on his face.  "Twelve days till Christmas, and I already have the best present in the galaxy."  
  
"Hikaru!"  Chekov scrunched up his nose, as he always did in these reactions of secret delight, and shoved Sulu a little, playfully (he thought).    
  
Unfortunately, and uncharacteristically, he hadn't accurately gauged Sulu's distance to the tree, and the next half-hour was spent in apologies and heavy lifting of a Douglas pine and careful brushing of countless green needles from Sulu's hair. Luckily, judging from Sulu's continued dopey grin between stolen kisses, he didn't mind too much. 


End file.
